


Loyal Knight and True

by wesleysgirl



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:58:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Bethynyc in exchange for a donation to the_fund.<br/>Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Loyal Knight and True

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bethynyc in exchange for a donation to the_fund.  
> Many thanks to Jane Davitt for the beta.

Wesley was sitting on the couch, just bringing a mug full of too-hot tea to his lips, when he heard something. Someone, outside the front door, and the fumbling of metal on metal. Heart suddenly beating too quickly, Wesley got up and crept over to the door, lifting a sword that they kept in the umbrella stand up as silently as possible and holding it up, ready to bash in the head of whoever it was trying to break into their home.

There was a muffled curse from outside, and Wesley jerked the door open before he could think, revealing Giles crouching on the doorstep, picking up the keys that he'd obviously just dropped. Giles glanced up, startled, and Wesley saw a blood-stained bandage wrapped around Giles' hand. "Good lord, what happened?" he said, dropping the sword back into the stand and drawing Giles into the house.

"I might ask you the same thing," Giles said. "Unless you're making it a habit to open the door like that?"

"I thought you were a burglar," Wesley said. He took the briefcase from Giles' other hand and set it down, kicked the door shut, then led Giles over to the couch and sat him down. "What happened?" he asked again.

"I was attacked," Giles said tightly.

Wesley cradled Giles' hand in both of his, thinking about unwrapping the makeshift bandage but deciding against it until he knew how bad it was. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," Giles said, shaking his head.

"You could have called me," Wesley said. He got up and went to the kitchen, where they kept one of the two first aid kits.

"I was nearly home," Giles said, voice raised to carry. "There was no point."

"You still could have called." Going back, Wesley sat on the coffee table, a roll of gauze balanced on his thigh. "How deep is it?"

"I don't know," Giles admitted, averting his eyes. "I was more concerned with getting back here than anything else."

Cautiously, Wesley untied the handkerchief that was wrapped around Giles' palm, waiting for a gush of blood that didn't come. Giles hissed as he eased the blood-stained cloth away from the skin, but the cut was fairly shallow. "You won't need stitches, but I doubt you'll be able to do much with this hand for a week or more." He glanced up at Giles' face. "Attacked by what?"

Giles shook his head. "It's so stupid."

Wesley looked at him again, concerned in a different way now. "What is, love?"

"It was just a boy with a knife," Giles said, meeting Wesley's gaze. "He couldn't have been more than fourteen." He grimaced as Wesley began to clean the wound with an antiseptic wipe. "He wanted my wallet."

It was a strange relief to know that the cause was something mundane, but it didn't really make the knot in Wesley's stomach ease as he finished bandaging up Giles' hand. He felt the need to hold the man, to breathe in the scent of him and be reassured that he was all right.

Instead, Wesley put away the first aid supplies, poured Giles a cup of tea, and made dinner, insisting that Giles do nothing but sit at the kitchen table. He couldn't force himself to eat, and spent most of the meal pushing the food around on his plate and hoping that Giles wouldn't notice.

It wasn't until they were in bed, warm under the covers, that Giles pulled him in close and spoke to him in the tone guaranteed to reduce him to soft-heartedness.

"What's bothering you, love?" Giles asked.

Wesley sighed. "I'm fine. Let's just get some sleep."

"Not if you're upset." Giles ran his good hand through Wesley's hair, smoothing it down. "You're not disappointed in me?"

"What?" Wesley pushed himself up onto an elbow, his glare useless in the darkness. "Don't be absurd; of course I'm not. Why would you think that?"

"Because you've been distant since I got home," Giles said frankly. "I thought..."

"What?" Wesley softened his voice and stroked his hand over Giles' chest. "What did you think?"

"That you thought I'd done a disgraceful job of defending myself," Giles said. Wesley could feel him take a deep breath as if steeling himself to explain, and he quickly leaned in and kissed Giles before he could say anything. For a moment, Giles' lips were tense against his; then he felt Giles relax and respond.

"I didn't think that," Wesley said. "Not at all. It never crossed my mind."

"I did," Giles admitted. "I didn't see it coming. I shouldn't have let down my guard, just because he was so young."

"You can't go through life suspicious of everyone," Wesley said, sliding his hand down to Giles' hip. "I wouldn't want you to. I like you this way."

"Do you?" Giles sounded more insecure than Wesley could recall. "Why?"

"Because..." Wesley kissed Giles' temple, nuzzling the soft skin there. "Because you're brilliant, and you have the most wonderful smile I've ever seen. And you're willing to forgive my many annoying qualities. How could I help but love you?"

"You don't have many annoying qualities," Giles said, and Wesley could hear a hint of that gorgeous smile in his voice. "Just one or two. No more than anyone else."

"Did I mention that you're forgiving?" Wesley kissed Giles' ear, his jaw, his throat. "I love you, Rupert. There's nothing you do that disappoints me."

There was a brief silence, and then Giles was on top of him and kissing him for all he was worth. "Need you," Giles gasped between kisses. He was hard against Wesley's thigh, mouth eager.

The last thing in the world Wesley wanted to do was deny him what he needed.

Afterward, when they were lying curled in each other's arms and drifting toward sleep, he remembered. "Do you still want to know what was bothering me earlier?" he asked.

"Hm?" Giles murmured.

"The thought that I could lose you to something so simple," Wesley said.

Giles kissed his hair awkwardly. "Don't worry," he said sleepily. "You won't lose me."

"I don't know if I could bear it if I did." Wesley sighed, letting the tension go and contentment settle in. He tightened his arm around Giles' waist. "This is what I need. Knowing that you're safe."

"I am safe," Giles yawned. "And so are you." Another kiss. "Now go to sleep."

In the darkness, Wesley smiled.

 

End.


End file.
